Her Holiday Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Knowing how crazy the weekend would be, and how busy her past two weeks had been, the last person she wanted to see right now was Max Campbell.

  Untrue, untrue, untrue!

  Tina hushed the internal chastisement and curled up under the covers, ready to ignore everything in favor of a few hours of sleep. Whatever Max had been doing, whatever his vitally important role in the world was, she didn’t care.

  So there.

  * * *

  “Tina.”

  She turned from the double oven in The Pelican’s Nest kitchen when Max called her name the next morning. Her flat expression said she wasn’t one bit happy to see him. “You’re back.”

  Her cool tone said his rapid disappearance put them back at square one. He had no choice but to own this guilt. Procedure dictated that he had to follow orders and maintain radio silence, but now he was back, and this time? He was here to stay, even if it took a while to convince her of that.

  “Yes.” He moved forward, but she waved him back, away from her domain.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, the entire town is busy this morning because it’s day one of our Main Street Festival weekend, so I have a lot to do. In ninety minutes, people will be streaming in from all over. We have shuttle busses coming from the south end of the lake every quarter-hour so we don’t over-tax the parking up here. Your mother is running the hardware store—she could probably use a hand there, and as you can see, I’m swamped.”

  “Tina, I know you’re angry with me,” he started, but she pivoted sharply, shot him a look and shook her head.

  “I’m not. I’m angry with me because I knew better, Max. And that’s not your fault, it’s mine. I should have left well enough alone. Blame it on sentiment, hormones, whatever you’d like, but I’m over it.”

  “Over us?” He took a small step closer, encroaching.

  “There is no ‘us,’ Max.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Well.” She slid one tray of old-fashioned sugared Christmas cakes out of the oven and slid another tray in, set the timer and turned. “It’s not up for argument. I’m glad you’re around to help your parents. They’re definitely more relaxed when you’re here, and that’s good for both of them. Now if you don’t mind—” she indicated the door with a cool glance “—I’ve got work to do.”

  The chill in her voice matched her remote expression. He wanted to stay and state his case, but a public forum during a crazy busy morning probably wasn’t the best choice.

  “I’ll see you later, then. And Tina?” He waited until she turned his way once more, her face void of expression. “I didn’t have a choice about staying or leaving or talking about my assignment. I couldn’t tell you or anyone else what I was doing, and that’s how my life’s been for the past ten years.” He raised his shoulders, hoping she’d understand. “But for the first time ever, I wanted to.” He turned and strode out the door, letting it click softly behind him.

  He walked across the street to the hardware store, went inside, punched a back room cutting block several times, then sighed.

  Tina wasn’t just angry.

  She was tomboy spittin’ mad, and that meant a bouquet of flowers wasn’t going to fix this. He’d only done his job, and done it well, but having to disappear when he’d gained her trust betrayed her growing faith in him. Knowing her history, he understood.

  But that didn’t change the bad timing, and Max’s track record didn’t gain him any points.

  He manned the first floor of the store for the day while most of the action was in the streets of the lakefront town. People milled about, some dressed in Dickensian costume, mobs of families, carolers, and a horse-drawn carriage ride that took people up and around the old cemetery and through the park before bringing them back down into town, ready to shop and eat.

  This festival hadn’t existed when he was young. The whole thing was new, busy, saturated with people and goods, and totally Christmas-themed. A huge red-and-green arrow pointed to the back door of the hardware store, emblazoned with the words Jenny’s Country Cove. His mother had taken domain up there for the day, because her old-fashioned housewares store was the perfect go-to site for reasonably priced country and Americana-themed gifts. Streams of people came in throughout the day, taking the stairs to the second-story shopping space, buying bags of country-themed items. They’d broken sales records by midafternoon, and that level of business commanded respect.

  No wonder Tina was run ragged.

  It wasn’t just that he was called away at a busy time. He’d left others holding the bag, leaving them to make good on his promises.

  A town-wide family festival, a marvelous cooperative endeavor, and the person he most wanted to share it with wanted nothing to do with him.

  Mrs. Thurgood stopped by the store an hour before closing time with a small sack of roasted nuts and a little bag of Tina’s sugar cakes. “I brought you a treat,” she exclaimed. She handed over both bags.

  “I couldn’t, Mrs. Thurgood,” Max protested, but the old woman wasn’t about to hear any such thing.

  “You can and will,” she insisted. “I wanted you to know how much I love the light display in the park. Butch would have loved it, too. He’d be so tickled to have his things out like that! At night, they light up so perfect that I don’t think it could be better, Max. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You know I’m moving, don’t you? This week, actually.”

  Max shook his head. “I wasn’t aware.”

  “Oh, that’s right, you’ve been gone.” Her expression said that had slipped her mind. “Well, I’m moving into the place below Tina’s. It’s just freshly painted. I used Vanilla Latte Romance from right over there.” She pointed to the paint chip display on the far wall. “And Tina’s going to help me hang pictures to make it homey.”

  Of course she was, because Tina was about the nicest, most helpful person on the planet. Not that she realized that about herself.

  But Max did. “It will be beautiful, Mrs. T.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled up at him. “But here’s the thing. I’d like to donate all those Christmas decorations to the town, if that’s okay.”

  It took a few seconds for Max to get the gist of what she was saying. “All of them? Mrs. T., that’s thousands of dollars’ worth of decorations and lights. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely certain!” Smiling, she reached up to pat his cheek. “You know, you remind me of Butch.”

  “I do?”

  She nodded. “Tallish, broadish, kind of strong and square. My mother used to say he was ‘barrel-chested’ and that was a good thing in a man. You know, Max...” She looked off to the left for a few seconds, then drew her gaze back to his. “I was real mad when I lost him. Real mad. I was mad at God, at Butch, at the flag, at just about everything that came around. And I could not get over it for the life of me.”

  “But you did.”

  “Because your mama came and saw me regular. She’d stop by and bring me a piece of cake or a slice of pie or a dozen cookies, always saying she had this bit left over. Now, no one in their right heads thought anyone raising seven kids had a bite left over, but as she kept doing that, I stopped being quite as angry.”

  “Time?” Max suggested.

  Her expression said yes and no, but her words went further. “Prayer, more than anything. And those little visits, Jenny Campbell stopping by to chat. She never minded the clutter or the dust, she just sat down, happy as could be, and let me talk until one day she grabbed my hand, gave it a squeeze.” Mrs. Thurgood wrapped her hand around Max’s and pressed lightly. “She said, ‘Elsie Thurgood, if any of my boys grow up to be half as tough, faithful and courageous as your Butch was, I will consider myself a success at motherhood.’”

  That sounded exactly like his mother. Warm, affectionate a
nd able to look beyond the chaos and the clutter of life.

  “When I saw you come home, I knew,” Mrs. Thurgood added.

  “Knew...what, exactly?”

  “That she was right,” Mrs. Thurgood declared. “With all the problems in the world, one good man does make a difference, Max. A big difference. And I see that man in you, just like your mother saw it in my Butch.”

  His heart melted.

  He’d watched men die. He’d watched as they gave up their lives for their country, fallen in a new kind of war that broke all the rules.

  He’d stood at funerals and weddings, he’d held the children and babies of fellow soldiers, but this old woman’s words, going beyond the obvious and seeing the heart and soul of the soldier within?

  That meant the world. He reached out and hugged her. “Thank you, Mrs. Thurgood. And I do believe I can eat a few of those cakes, after all.”

  “Well, our Tina made them, and they’re worth every penny we pay for them. Such a treat each Christmas!” she exclaimed. “And now if only we could find a way to keep her here...” She slanted a bright look of interest his way.

  Max half laughed, half groaned. “That will take some doing. She’s not all that happy with me right now.”

  Mrs. Thurgood waved a hand that said Tina’s anger was no big deal. Clearly she hadn’t seen the steam puffing out of Tina Martinelli’s ears that morning.

  “She’s been crazy busy for two weeks straight, and what that girl needs is some old-fashioned courting.”

  “I can’t disagree, but in case you haven’t noticed, we don’t live in or near the courtship capital of the world, Mrs. T.” Max swept the view of Main Street a quick glance.

  “The Kirkwood Lady has their holiday dinner cruise going on,” she replied. “And I just happen to have two tickets right here.” She stuck two rectangular pieces of cardstock into his hand.

  “My father said these were mighty hard to get.” Max tipped a grin down to the older woman as he scanned the printed admissions. “How’d you score these tickets, ma’am?”

  “That’s for me to know,” she sassed back, smiling. “One way or another, you talk our Tina into getting on that boat with you. Nothing like a peaceful dinner for two, surrounded by Christmas lights, to show a woman how you really feel.”

  “Thank you.” He reached out and gathered her into another hug. “This is very nice of you.”

  She waved it off as if it was nothing, but Max knew better. In a small town like this, folks pretty much knew one another’s financial status because they all shared the same nosy mail carrier. Mrs. Thurgood wasn’t poor, but she had little put away for old age, and now she had to move out of a home that was already paid-off and into an apartment where she’d have to pay rent, utilities and medical bills?

  Max was pretty sure she’d fallen on some tough times. Still, he knew better than to embarrass her. He tucked the tickets into his pocket as a small crowd of customers came down from upstairs while another group went up.

  * * *

  Ryan’s obvious misery made Tina sad.

  She’d waved it off with Laura, but the reality of the teen’s frustration bit deep.

  He avoided the kitchen when she was in it. He averted his eyes whenever he could. And when they did make eye contact, he was quick to drop his gaze.

  She’d advised time, but his animosity weighed heavy on her shoulders. Why couldn’t they be normal, like the Campbells? Why couldn’t they shrug off drama from this day forward and get on with things?

  She trudged home at the end of a long day, but when a group of carolers came out of the church parking lot, singing of angels and stars and newborn kings, her attitude softened. Mary and Joseph had faced multiple hardships. They’d done all right.

  They believed. They took strength from their faith. Ryan’s got no such basis.

  She understood what a difference faith made. And while Laura seemed to think coming back to church was a good idea, Tina didn’t fool herself that Ryan would willingly tag along. At least the uptick of business at the restaurant kept him too busy to run around with the little gang of troublemakers he’d befriended last summer, and that was a big plus.

  She let herself into the apartment, climbed the steps and glanced around.

  Her mother’s favorite ornaments were carefully layered in big, plastic totes. Her prized collection of village pieces were wrapped and tucked away in similar fashion.

  Every other year she’d pulled the totes out and spread the decorations around. This year she hadn’t bothered.

  Because you’re having a pity party? Or because you’re just too busy to think rationally?

  The former, she decided. The thought shamed her. In a world where so many did without, she was blessed.

  She’d unpack those totes tomorrow night, she decided. She’d fill her little place with light and love and laughter, a perfect ending to an amazing weekend. And not once would she think about Max Campbell, working half a block away at the hardware store.

  She curled up on the bed and turned out the light, determined to keep Max out of sight and out of mind, but knowing he was back, and wanting to talk with her?

  Made forgetting about Max an impossible task.

  * * *

  “Hey, Dad? Wanna take a ride in to check out the park lights with me?” Max wondered aloud a little after eight that night. His father had been at home alone all day, a surefire way to drive the older Campbell stir-crazy. “I want to make sure we don’t have any blown bulbs or bad strings and it’s easier with two of us.”

  “It’s cold,” Jenny warned from the kitchen, but the look she sent Max said she approved the invitation. “Make sure you guys have hats and gloves.”

  “I’m on it, Mom.”

  “I’ll get my coat.” Charlie lumbered from the living room chair, grabbed his thick shearling-lined coat and accepted the hat and gloves from Max with a smile. “Let’s get this done.”

  “You and me.”

  Max drove into the village, stopped at the edge of the road’s descent and sighed.

  The town splayed out before him, glorious in the full spectacle of Christmas lights. Beyond the town, Park Road offered a spectacular backdrop of brilliant color. Festive lights ringed the lake, a circle of holiday splendor reflected in the waters below. And along the western shore, the Kirkwood Lady cruised quietly on its nightly holiday dinner cruise.

  The effect of water, lights and color made for a stunning display.

  “I’ve loved being a part of all this,” noted Charlie softly.

  Max fought a lump in his throat.

  Was this the last time Charlie would see the beauty he helped create?

  In God’s hands.

  Max knew that. He believed it. He understood the frailty of man. But he didn’t have to like it.

  “We can park up top and walk down the western slope,” Charlie suggested. “That way we’re not disturbing folks as they drive through the display.”

  They took the outer road around town, and Max did as Charlie suggested. From this higher vantage point, the lights played out from a new angle, but the only lights he noticed this time were two small squares on Overlook Drive.

  Tina’s windows, lit from within.

  She’d had a long day, and he didn’t dare approach her now. Tired and cross weren’t the best conditions for heart-to-heart conversations. And her self-imposed timeline gave him a few weeks to wear her down, although it was easier when she was by his side in the hardware store.

  She’d be helping there again, once the festival was over. And he’d spotted Tina’s name on the church committee to distribute Christmas baskets to needy families the following week, so he’d boldly added his name to the list.

  “We’ve got a bad string here,” Charlie announced as they moved through the displa
y.

  Max noted the location in his phone.

  “And you’ll need to fix the reins on the reindeer,” Charlie noted. “They’re blinking on one side and not on the other.”

  “Will do.”

  Taking opposite sides of the narrow park road, they examined the lighting display, away from the stream of cars. Between them they noted two other spots in need of tweaking, but all in all, the lights looked great and they were three weeks into the display.

  “Well done.” Charlie high-fived Max as they reached the end, but then he took a seat on a tree stump and breathed in and out, not gasping for air, but none too comfortable, either.

  “Dad.” Max dropped low instantly, concerned. He took his father’s hand and gazed into his face. “You okay? Should I get help?”

  “Winded is all. Give me a minute. Not used to walking much these days.”

  Max prayed that’s all it was, and when his father’s breathing eased, he nodded uphill. “I wouldn’t object if you brought the car down here, though. Your mother keeps warning me not to overdo it, then I do exactly that.” He slanted a grin to Max, a smile that alleviated some of Max’s worry. “Mostly to get a rise out of her because otherwise she’s way too bossy.”

  “I’ll get the car.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  Max hurried up the outside of the lighted display, through the trees. The park show required one-way traffic. That meant Max had to bring the car around the long way. He worried each minute, thinking of his father, out of breath, sitting on a stump, alone at the bottom of the park slope.

  When he finally swung into the small parking lot at the park’s southern tip, his lights picked up a group of people, hovering around the spot where he’d left his dad a quarter hour before.

  Adrenaline surged.

  Max bounded from the car and raced up the short incline.

  Zach Harrison turned and spotted him. “Hey, Max. It’s nice you guys were able to make it over here tonight.”

  Zach’s tone and expression said two things. First, that Max needed to calm down. Second, that everything was okay, and Max was overreacting.